Flesh, Blood, Bone: Full Circle
by Akumakagemaru
Summary: An criminal has resurfaced, one who transmutes his very flesh - to fight someone who specializes in the taboo, Mustang calls in two others to face him, and assigns a talented young female alchemist to help stop him. Rated M for safety, potential gore.
1. Chapter 1

It was a rainy day at Eastern Command, and Colonel Roy Mustang was not happy. The rain itself, although a nuisance in preventing him from fighting properly, was only a very small part of his mood. A slightly larger - although not by much, Roy thought with a moment of humor - was the new State Alchemist that was currently causing a headache for the Colonel in Lior. But most alarming of all was the news of a traitor in their midst - an outed traitor, thankfully, rather than a spy, though he was no less dangerous.

Mustang set the file back on his desk, and rubbed his temples with one hand, the other reaching for the cup of coffee, and missing. He stared at the empty spot where his mug had been just a minute ago, puzzled, and looked up. "Lieutenant-" Mustang was cut off as Riza Hawkeye reached from behind him and placed a full, steaming cup of coffee. "Your cup was empty, Colonel, and considering your distraction, I thought you would need more soon." With that, she returned to his side, still standing at attention, until Mustang signaled for her to relax, frowning down at the blank, seemingly harmless folder laying on his desk, and reached for the new cup of coffee."Yes...thank you. I suppose I have been a bit distracted lately. Any news on our guests?"

Hawkeye looked down at the notepad she held, and her finger stopped at a line near the top. "Yes, the trains they were arriving on have already passed through, and their escort has picked them up. They should be here any minute, Colonel." Setting the notepad down on the desk, she glanced at her superior officer for a moment. "Sir...do you really think they can be trusted? They fought alongside him for years, and they both cut ties with the military. Do we know for certain they aren't in contact with him?"

He set down the coffee, and placed his fingertips together, eyes closed in silence for several moments before he answered. "I trust them, Lieutenant. They were already wary of him when I met them, near the end of the war. But besides that...I'm not sure we have much of a choice. He's evaded all of our efforts to catch him so far, and the few times we've gotten close enough to take shots at him, he's shown little or no reaction to our weapons. Even when State Alchemists were dispatched last week, we were unable to stop him..." At that, Mustang grimaced, having been part of the team that had attempted to apprehend the criminal, and having achieved no greater degree of success than the previous efforts, prompting his current meeting.

A knock on the door halted their thoughts, and Havoc's head appeared. "Colonel, they're here." Mustang nodded. "Thank you Lieutenant, show them in." Within a few minutes after Havoc closed the door, the two men they'd been waiting for all morning opened it once again, and stepped through. The first one they saw had what looked like a white shirt underneath a black jacket, dark red pants, and a pair of sunglasses that wrapped around his eyes. His pale skin made it clear that he spent little time outdoors, which made the sunglasses an oddity, to most people, though Mustang knew the reason. With a cigarette hanging from his grinning mouth, he looked less than respectful, and aside from the overwhelming confidence and and competence he carried like a cloak, he didn't look like one of the most dangerous alchemists in the country. His hair looked completely buzzcut at first, though a short ponytail could be seen behind his neck when he stepped sideways to let the man following him step into the room.

The man who followed was much more grim, the simple black pants and buttoned shirt seeming far more fitting than the large white coat practically draped over him, his pale skin also implying more time indoors than out, his white hair reaching past his shoulders, the two black streaks starting at his temples an indication of the past they shared, and his prescence carried a threat in every movement, if only from the cold stare of his dark blue eyes. Behind them stood a woman, little of her figure and tanned skin shown because of the heavy military uniform that was standard in Amestris, though her brown eyes narrowed, then trailed upwards in annoyance on sighting the cigarette the first man carried, her dark brown hair held up while on duty. "Sir, I've escorted your guests here...am I dismissed?"

"Sorry Lieutenant, but not yet. This is a very important discussion, one you definitely need to hear. Now shut the door, Lieutenant. No need to spread news too quickly." Looking confused, the woman shut the door, then moved to stand beside the Colonel. "Now, Lieutenant, I have a question for you. Do you know who these two are?" Now looking even more confused, she stared at them hard for a few moments, then nodded her head side to side. "No, sir." Mustang nodded, then reclined in his chair, and picked up two more folders that had been set off to the side."I didn't expect you to. Allow me to introduce you. Lieutenant Colonel Amora Valentine, meet Lieutenant Colonel Devlin Mardes, the Vampire Alchemist" - he indicated the man with the sunglasses, who raised a hand briefly in acknowledgement - "and Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas Treyos, the Bonereaver Alchemist." He indicated the other this time, who simply nodded in her direction. She stared for a moment, before her eyes widened slightly. "Oh...so you two, you served with the Colonel, in Ishbal?"

Both men stared at her, even Devlin's permanent grin dropping off for a moment, and Nicholas' cold stare turning, if anything, even colder, before Mustang answered, breaking the tension before it could build, especially as Nicholas' response would've been a horrible way to start things off. "Yes, we served together, though not in the same areas. But the reason you're here is because of a former comrade, one you two happen to be close to - I doubt I need to explain who, but I need to explain anyway. Three weeks ago, we started getting reports of a criminal who managed to slaughter a half dozen MPs after causing some trouble and attracting their attention. We still don't know exactly what kind of commotion warranted calling for reinforcements, but it didn't work, regardless. Since then, we've had more and more incidents, and a week ago, when the attacks had started coming every day, we discovered the identity of the killer." He lifted the file he had been looking at just minutes ago, and opened it, laying it back down on the table, displaying the military profile compiled for records. The photo was of a young man, black hair slicked back, and a small, confident grin on his face, dark brown eyes betraying nothing of the monster they now face. Mustang and Valentine observed the two newcomers, Valentine more with surprise, as she could see little reaction from the unsmiling Devlin, apart from the twitches in his neck that betrayed his anger. Nicholas was far more obvious, hands clenched into fists that shook so forcefully, she had no doubt as to the depths of his hatred for the man.

"Alexander Caldroy, the Fleshweaver Alchemist. He stayed on for several years after you two left, but eventually, he disobeyed an order to retreat - he was officially marked as a traitor after he butchered his commanding officer. He was on the run for a few weeks, but eventually he just...disappeared. We were a bit worried, but otherwise glad that he seemed to be staying out of trouble, or so we hoped. When he resurfaced, we sent every State Alchemist in the city after him - the survivors are in this room." Devlin and Nicholas both looked over Mustang's shoulder, at Riza, then glanced at Valentine, curiosity showing for the first time since they had arrived, noticing the shaky left hand, the distant eyes, and clenched jaw. "Lieutenant Valentine and I were the only survivors of that hunt, and we only survived by a stroke of luck, when some idiot driver thankfully wasn't watching the road, and ran over him. I'm sure you can imagine our surprise when he started standing up, seemingly unharmed, and we made a retreat. There was obviously no weapon we had that could stop this man, whatever he's done to himself, so when we returned here. I immediately started digging through his old files, and I found you two. I went to the Fuhrer, made my proposal...and here you stand."

Mustang opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out two pairs of rank insignia, two lines at each side, with two stars in the middle, and placed them on the desk with a small smirk. "Welcome back, your retirement has been revoked, by order of the Fuhrer. Lieutenant Amora Valentine will be working with you from now on, as an observer, a bodyguard," - Nicholas grunted, Valentine narrowing her eyes at him - "and a fellow alchemist." This time, the curiosity returned, and she grinned at them, lifting her right hand, revealing the automail arm, clawed fingertips clenching. "Lieutenant Colonel Amora Valentine, the Claw Alchemist." Devlin studied the clawed automail with obvious interest, but Nicholas scowled and turned to Mustang. "Sir, I can deal with being pulled out of retirement - it really isn't that bad, since I have a grudge to settle with Caldroy. But this...why do we need some kid tagging along? She's barely out of diapers!" A second after the words left his mouth, he found a metal claw under his chin, sparking with electricity, Valentine's cold eyes staring at him. "I am _not_ a kid.I've faced that...thing, and survived. I've hunted down a few rogue alchemists myself before, and captured every one. So you better start showing me a little respect, _sir_." The cold fury in his dark eyes betrayed the slow smile spreading across his face. "Oh, really? Well guess what, _kid_, I've seen an actual war. I've seen bodies blown apart, men, women, children. I've seen little kids trying to point a gun they picked off a dead soldier, just cause they were trying to protect their dead parents. I've seen carnage that would make your head spin, _kid_, so I think you're the one that better start showing respect. Besides..." - his lips lifted into a cold smirk, and with a quiet tearing sound, Valentine glanced down, staring wide eyed at the pair of pointed white bone spears pointing out from Nicholas' chest - "I'm a professional killer. All I did in Ishbal was fill the shallow graves, and build the burning mountains."

They both flinched when a ball of flame flew between them, trailing from the fingertips of a scowling Roy Mustang. "That will be quite enough. You three will need to rely on each other, so stow the banter till after you've got Caldroy, got it?" Three curt nods answered, Nicholas and Valentine carefully ignoring each other, a slight smile on Devlin's face as he stayed off to the side. "Dismissed!" With three crisp salutes, the trio exited the office, and Mustang sighed, slumping in his chair. "Those three are going to be the death of me, I just know it..."


	2. Chapter 2

The rain had let up, and the sun was just beginning to dry the large puddles along the road. It was also causing a minor irritation to Amora Valentien, who happened to be driving at the moment, Devlin Mardes seated next to her, casually reclining against the seat with his left arm draped across the backs of the seats, his right elbow hanging down alongside the door, and seemingly asleep, head tilted down with a small smile on his face. She smiles slightly at the sight, still amazed that the man beside her had been - and in some areas, still was - feared for his devastating combat alchemy.

"How long is this gonna take, kid? We don't have all day, you know." Scowling forward as her grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, Amora had no difficulty in believing the lethality of their other companion, seated behind Devlin. _'His attitude alone is abrasive enough to stop bullets,'_ she thought to herself. Sitting rigidly in the backseat, arms crossed over his chest, his face nearing a full blown scowl, though for the moment it remained restricted to a small frown and a slight furrowing of his eyes, was Nicholas Treyos. Almost from the moment the two had conversed, they had been at each other's throats, and that didn't look likely to change anytime soon. However, Mustang had basically ordered them to cooperate, so she at least would try to be civil.

"Don't worry Treyos, we're just going to stop by and pick up some uniforms and, most importantly, sidearms for you both. Even I keep a pistol on hand as a precaution, and it may come in handy later." Behind her, Nicholas grunted, and mumbled something under his breath. She grit her teeth, and tries to ignore it. Though unable to make out the words, it wasn't difficult to understand the sentiment. And patience was a virtue, so she tried to relax her grip, before she ruined the steering wheel yet again. "Stupid kid, our weapons are a part of us. We don't need your worthless guns." A muffled squeal of twisted metal followed as the military vehicle swerved onto a - mercifully empty - street for a moment, before she twisted around, one hand still on the wheel as the other pointed at his face.

"Listen up! I don't care how tough you are, or how senior you are, I've had enough! I'm part of this team too, and you're going to show me some respect! If you don't, I'm going to have to throw you off your high and mighty throne, hard!" Just as she finished, and jabbed her finger at his face, a chorus of screams was heard ahead of them. She slammed the brakes on, stopping with a lurch violent enough to dislodge a now staring Devlin, who was currently gripping the dash as if his life depended on it. They look at each other for a moment, then stared ahead at the cloud of dust and debris they had narrowly avoided, the direction indicating it came from the left at the intersection. They glanced at each other again before climbing out, arguements fogotten for the moment as they investigated.

A normal patrol had quickly turned into utter carnage for Major Erika Vaughn, who was coordinating with nearly a dozen MPs in this area of the city. She had decided to accompany one of the patrolling pairs, both to show that the Military had a strong, visible presence in the city, and more personally, to get out from the stuffy comand post she usually occupied all day for this position. However, it seemed her luck never changed, as just an hour into their patrol, they had encounted the very criminal they were supposed to be watching for. Alexander Caldroy, the Fleshweaver Alchemist, in all of his gruesome glory, had devastated them. The shock of seeing him casually walk into the middle of the street nearly made them fail to recognize him. Heavily muscled and deeply tanned, covered in transmutation markings, though they didn't see many of them until after he removed his bullethole-ridden shirt, and dark brown eyes gazed at them under thick black hair, slicked back against his skull, a thin line of hair on his chin, under a smiling mouth. His silver necklace, depicting a snake eating its own tail, was a well known alchemic symbol, and drew all three pairs of eyes for a brief moment after they fired, before noticing the already healing wounds.

His retaliation was unexpected, a head-on charge, which none of their bullets managed to stop. The first MP he reached died quickly enough, having his head and part of his spine ripped out, the bloody head proving enough of a distraction after being thrown at her final companion for him to slam his fist into the man's gut. She still hadn't quite figured out what happened, but the next thing she knew she was staring at her men's bloody guts, faint wisps of steam from the chill air rising from them as he dropped the body to the ground, and casually walked towards her, intestines slowly dropping, leaving a crimson trail behind him. The only thing that had saver her was the arrival of a new pair of MPs, one of which had been carrying a much larger rifle, one experimentally designed for launching explosives, though the project had been shelved, and he only carried it because of a shortage of firearms. It was only intended as a temporary solution to fulfill a technical requirement, but she had never been more thankful when she ducked to the side, barely glimpsing the slight widening of his eyes in surprise as the powerful explosive round detonated against his chest.

She had relaxed briefly, like her men, sure that no one could have survived such an assault. So her surprise and terror was understandable when, out of the smoke, one of her dead MPs guns appeared, and with a pull of the trigger the man who held the experimental dropp ed to his knees, a large, bloody hole in his forehead. The reflexive drop was the only thing that saved his part as a second shot rang out over his head, and he fumbled with the miniature cannon, firing a round that impacted several dozen feet behind the target. He never managed a second, as another shot rang out, and one of his eyes disappeared in a cloud of red before he, too, dropped. She stared in horror for a few brief moments as Caldroy stared down at the handgun, before carelessly tossing it over his shoulder, and turned to her, still smiling.

"Don't worry, my dear...this is all in good fun, and it'll be over momentarily. All you have to do...is stand...very...still..." he whispered to her, his right forearm changing, mutating into sledgehammer-like appendage, raising it high over his head. She closed her eyes and looked down, knowing she could do nothing to stop the monster form killing her, then opened her eyes and glared up at the much taller man, preparing herself to meet death in the face. This is the only reason she saw a glimpse of red before Caldroy jumped backwards, looking to his left while she studied the strange, narrow, blood red javelin that was now buried in the concrete beneath her feet. She looked to her right, and saw a scowling man with shaven-looking red hair and sunglasses, tense, standing with his legs spread and right arm cocked back as if holding another javelin. She watched in fascination as his left hand pulled off the sunglasses to reveal two different color eyes, one a dark green, the other a pale blue, and blood seemed to ooze out of his raised right palm, elongating into a javeling identical to the one that had saved her.

"Alexander, your fight is with us. Leave her alone, and face me! Face justice, you monster, justice for all of the innocents you've killed!" he called, anger radiating off of him. The creature before her simply smiled wider at him, and spread his arms as if to embrace him, including the hand still shaped like a hammer. "Ahh, Devlin, my old friend! What a lovely reunion! Tell me, is dear Nicholas here as well?" His response was a streak of white rushing from behind Devlin, jumping and landing in a crouch where Caldroy was just seconds before jumping backwards, and there stood a man with long white hair, two black streaks starting at his temples and cold eyes staring ahead, crouching slightly with his handsfingers spread and pressed against the asphalt. Her eyes widened as he pulled them up, revealing each nail was nearly a foot long, and clearly sharp enough to pierce stone, if the ten holes he left behind were any indication. The madman just grinned.

"Ahh, at last, together again! How long has it been, five years, ten?" He barely dodged a trio of crimson javelins as Nicholas answered, "Not nearly long enough, you sick freak." With that, the battle began in earnest, even Caldroy's mocking commentary postponed as Nicholas flew forward, sweeping with one hand, clearly trying to decapitate his enemy, while the other thrust forward, and his hands were a flurry. Moving far faster than Erika could see, he struck again and again, never quite managing to touch him, as the tattooed man seemed to almost flow out of the path of his strikes, always grinning. Even when he was forced to dodge from the nearly constant barrage of javelins from Devlin, who was always running up to grab a used javelin, reabsorbing it through one hand while another materializes in the other, he grinned. They finally cornered him in an alley after Nicholas launched a kick at his stomach, using his feet for the first time in the battle, and two javelins pierced Caldroy's shoulders, while Nicholas delivered a brutal uppercut, shredding his opponent's stomach, chest, and face. But to their surprise, he simply laughed, and his shoulders shifted, the hardened blood sliding out behind him to land on the ground, and the five jagged wounds quickly healed, leaving not so much as a scar.

"Well, it's been fun boys, but I think I've played enough today. But before I go, a parting gift, to celebrate our reunion!" Still laughing like a lunatic, he raised a hand, and out of his palm a small, compact handgun emerged, and several quick shots rang out. Neither looked behind, until they heard a muffled scream, and stared in surprise at the soldier that Caldroy had been about to murder, bleeding from her left shoulder and right thigh, a handgun falling from her grip. When they turned back, there was no sign of Caldroy. Cursing, they both ran back to the injured woman, Amora arriving just moments later, before she spoke. "I already called it in, don't worry, you'll be all right, Major."

Groaning softly as conciousness slipped away, her last sight was a pair of mismatched eyes, staring into her own red eyes in surprise. As he lifted her up, Devlin studied her more closely, the darkly tanned skin and lean build, deep black hair in a short braid. As the medics arrived on the scene, he frowned slightly in thought. _'Ishbal...she's from ishbal...'_


End file.
